Ironic
by Jace2
Summary: Draco gets angsty because of his father and vents about his frustrations. Rated for violence and some language. r/r please!


Disclaimer: I do not own any character you recognize and never have believed I did, I wish I owned Draco ( and Lucius), but people in Hell wish for ice water so that shows what wishing gets you.  
  
A/N: I don't know whether I'll make this be a one chapter angst story or not. So in your review please tell me if I should continue this because i already have somewhat of an idea where I would go if I did write more. This is also my first attempt at angst and I've always wanted to write Draco like this. I'm sorry if you all hate it, but go ahead and flame me, I won't really care. Now on with the fic!  
  
Ironic  
  
Draco Malfoy looked down at his hands as warm, crimson blood spilled down to his long, aristocratic fingers ringed in silver. His left forearm was pulsing with a burning pain where he had run the blade of his favorite fencing sword (his father did not believe in beading and frankly, Draco didn't either) across it. He pushed the pain out of his mind as he sliced into the skin of his opposite arm. The searing pain caused by this was also pushed aside as Draco thought of the letter he had just received. It had read:  
  
Son-  
I trust you are preparing for your upcoming initiation. I also trust you are keeping a facade of normalcy so as not to arouse suspicion from that Mudblood loving fool of a headmaster you have. For once in my life you have made me proud of you. You've finally made me believe you deserve the Malfoy name. I am at last proud to end this letter as   
Your Father-  
Lucius Diabolos Malfoy  
  
The parchment had burnt as soon as Draco had finished reading it, which really was too bad because he had wanted to ball it up and throw it into the fire. Damn his father, damn him straight to hell for all eternity, Draco thought intensely. He loathed his father and everything about him since the summer after fourth year when Draco had realized that Lucius actually believed everything he had taught Draco. Up until that point, Draco had been a delusion fourteen year old who would have done anything to please his father and make him proud. He had never succeeded in doing either which had given him an inward inferiority complex and an outward superiority one. The result of that: making Draco a twisted little shit who no one really cared about (except for everyone that wants in my pants, so everyone, Draco thought ironically).  
  
While Draco was reflecting on all of this he continued violently cutting his arms. Just as he was losing himself in the pain so he wouldn't have to think about   
his shitty personal life, a startled cry brought him back to reality. He swore under his breath because he knew that he was probably an odd sight; sitting in his own scarlet blood with a sword in hand, tearing at his arms maniacally. He whirled around to see who had interrupted his self mutilation, hate session.  
  
"Oh, my God, Malfoy! What the hell are you doing? Insanely slashing at your arms until you bleed to death?" Hermione Granger shouted in utter shock.  
  
"Look, Granger, go back to Gryffindor Tower and pretend you never saw me. And when they find my bloodied body lying at the bottom of this tower with a note that says: 'Father, next time you want to talk please remember to pack some ice water because it's damn hot here,' in one hand and this sword in the other, don't say anything. That's my advice to you and I'd follow it," Draco told her pleadingly. He looked at her with pleading also in his silver and she stared back defiantly with her maple syrup colored irises blazing.  
  
"I won't let you kill yourself, Malfoy. I mean, I've always hated you, but I never figured you for a coward," she spat. Draco stared at her for a few seconds before a look of realization came to his face and he started to laugh. Hermione stared at him quizzically.   
  
"You almost had me there, Granger. I can't believe I nearly fell for that bull. I'm not dumb, I am second in every class, remember. Nice try though; halfway decent for a Gryffindor," he conceded to her.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked sincerely. She really did hate Malfoy, but she never wished anyone, except Voldemort, dead.  
  
"Why? My question is why I didn't do this a hell of a long time ago. My life is utter shit, Granger," he said as she looked up at him incredulously. "My father's an evil bastard who I wish an excruciatingly painful death upon, I have no friends to speak of, unless of course you count people who want into my pants as friends, I have the biggest inferiority complex on this whole God forsaken earth, everyone believes I'll turn into my father and he wants me to be a Death Eater, my initiation is in three days, by the way, and the only thing that could make make my father proud of me, something I've aspired to do every since I've known he was my father is too become a mindless minion exactly like he is!" Draco blurted out in a rush. From his tone Hermione could tell he had wanted to tell someone all this for a long time. "But why am I telling you this? You don't give a damn."  
  
"But I do. Malfoy, why didn't you ever tell someone all this stuff?" Hermione asked taken aback.   
  
"Who? Crabbe? Goyle? Or how about Pansy? Yeah, that'd be perfect. If I did that I'd be considered a pansy ass who couldn't even take care of his own damn problems," he laughed.  
  
"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I never knew. I really am sorry," Hermione told him honestly as he scribbled something on a piece of parchment.  
  
"Not your fault," he told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm sorry too, for what it's worth."  
  
"For what?"   
  
"Everything I've ever done to you. For calling you 'Mudblood', making fun of your teeth, which look better now that I notice it, and just making your life hell," Draco explained as he climbed onto an open windowsill, note and sword in hand.  
  
"Malfoy, what-"  
  
"Tell Potter and Weasley I'm sorry too. Tell Professor Snape thank you and good luck for me. Tell Potter and Weasley good luck also, you lot will need it; I've seen what your up against. Good luck, Hermione Granger, you'll be a great witch someday," Draco finished as Hermione watched him fall backwards calmly out of the window.   
  
  
  
A/N: Well, I hope you all liked it. I'm sorry if Draco seems kind of OoC but my muse was begging me to write him like that. I would love to know whether or not to let Draco fall to his death or not, so it's up to you; just tell me when you review. I compared Hermione's eyes to maple syrup and not chocolate because i remember one MST I read where Hermione said "How come my eyes are always compared to chocolate?" and I thought, "Hey let's use something different" but I realized there aren't a lot of pretty brown things. I'm sorry if you all hate it, I wrote it at like 2 o'clock in the morning because It came to me after I saw a tiny bit of some random movie where blood spilled off a guillotine onto some lady's face. It was gross but that's where the inspiration for the first sentence came. I'm sorry that I'm raving on about stupid pointless crap but I love doing that. So, Peace, Love, and Draco in Leather Pants!!!! Oh yeah, I also have to say: PINK RULES!!!!!!!!!! although that has no relevance. P.S. I love Lucius but my muse said to write it like this. Sorry, I'm a total Lucius Lover so I'm sorry to all my fellow worshippers. 


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